


summer is over again

by shandygaff



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Alternate Universe - Magical Realism, Challenge: Sports Anime Shipping Olympics | SASO 2017, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-16
Updated: 2018-04-16
Packaged: 2019-04-23 16:35:56
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 617
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14336607
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/shandygaff/pseuds/shandygaff
Summary: The summer feels like it'll never end and Atsumu laughs, buoyant and carefree, allowing his popsicle to melt from the heat and drip past his lips.





	summer is over again

**Author's Note:**

> Written for Sports Anime Shipping Olympics 2017 Bonus Round 3: FSTs.
> 
> This little piece has been tweaked quite a bit from its original self last year, but the underlying skeleton of it remains. (tw) Squint if you would like for this to be twincest.

The summer feels like it'll never end and Atsumu laughs, buoyant and carefree, allowing his popsicle to melt from the heat and drip past his lips.

"Don't waste it," Osamu reproaches, lounging beside him on the veranda. His own popsicle is still stuck in its blue wrapper and he holds it to his eyes as if it's a magnifying glass. Atsumu doesn't know what he's trying to see through with it. In fact, Atsumu thinks it's impossible to, anyway, and chalks this behaviour up to Samu being a weirdo for no reason again.

He snorts, purposely lets more of the sticky liquid stain his chin, and it slips all the way down to his shirt, making the fabric there cling like a ghost to his skin. He shivers from its sudden chill. "Why d'ya always like prolonging things more than ya should, Samu? Ya should savour it, get it all in the moment!"

Unbothered, Samu's eyes remain focused on his popsicle. His only reply is a noncommittal sound.

(The lack of attention lights something uncertain inside his chest, just shy of suffocating.)

"Besides," Atsumu drawls, his tone at the precise pitch to make a vein pop up on Samu's forehead because it always, _always_ signals that he's found shit and isn't one bit afraid to stir it; he's fishing for some kind of response and it would be in his brother's-- and all the puddings in the fridge --best interest to acknowledge him. "Yer'll give me yours once mine's finished, riiight?" He makes grabby hands towards Samu, and snickers like the devil when his brother promptly turns to lie down and face the opposite direction, leaving his back to be a wall against Atsumu's mischief.

 _Too bad, so sad then,_ he scoffs internally; since when has that ever worked as a deterrent!

He shifts forward and slumps over Samu's waist, causing the planks beneath them to creak and complain from their combined weight.

"Heavy." Samu wheezes and whacks a palm on Atsumu's forehead in an attempt to dislodge him. It fails.

Atsumu grins. "So, give me yer ice cream and I'll move."

A second whack, slightly gentler than the first one, comes his way. "Don't wanna. Go get another one yerself, Tsumu. There's more in the fridge."

 _But it's not_ **yours** , he bites his tongue from spitting. _I don't want it if it's not yours._ Instead, he huffs against Samu's collarbone, whining, "But it's too far~"

He's silenced, suddenly, when Samu presses the popsicle to his lips. It's still unwrapped, and the plastic crinkles uncomfortably with each exhale of his breath. The coldness of it burns and burns, yet Atsumu can't bring himself to escape.

"Is it so bad," Samu asks, mildly, eyes bright like the sun above counting down the days to the next season, "to leave the best things for last?"

As if hypnotised, Atsumu reaches up and takes the popsicle from him.

(Something's changed.)

Shadows fall and the cicadas stop crying.

"Is it so bad?" His twin repeats and Atsumu's hands can't stop shaking as they rip the wrapper open.

The popsicle is whole, still in perfect condition despite having been out of the freezer for at least twenty minutes now. When he pops it into his mouth, it tastes like something scorched; the sort of bittersweet that coats the back of your teeth, never letting go.

Samu chooses that moment to lean forward, kissing him by the cheek, and whispers so softly that Atsumu almost misses it: _I'll see you again next year, Tsumu._

Then, Atsumu's the only one left sprawled on the veranda.

A crushed sunflower lies in his brother's place.

(Atsumu crunches down on the rest of the popsicle almost viciously.)

**Author's Note:**

> Ergo: Osamu is the human personification of summer here, and is only in existence till the season ends.
> 
> Thank you for reading.


End file.
